The Magnificent Eight
by Spectral Timerunner
Summary: They were eight... but they fought like eight hundred! Based on the Magnificent Seven. Prolouge: Wherein we witness the cruelty of Kvar and his Desians to Heimdal, and the village seeks a way to defend itself.


Those Who Attempt to Allegorize This Narrative Will Be Prosecuted

Those Who Try to Reconcile the Geography Will Be Banished

Those Who Take the Essays of This Story Too Seriously Will Be Shot

_-By Order of the Author_

Author's Note

In the context of this essay, I will attempt to create a guide for a new and relatively unknown field of fan fiction, called character substitution, or charsubbing©. Charsubbing consists of taking the plot of one story, and replacing the original characters and locales with those of another story.

This style differs from traditional parody fan fiction in that it does not seek to create humor by mocking either story, but instead, to force people to think of these stories in new and different ways.

Each chapter of this essay will begin with one step toward creating a charsub, followed by a portion of one continuous story to illustrate the point. I have decided to use the plot of _The Magnificent Seven_, a western and a brilliant charsub of S_even Samurai_ in its own right, and including the world of _Tales of Symphonia_. I own neither of these works, and will provide further citations beyond this point only if absolutely necessary.

If you wish, you may skip all notes and read the story by itself without losing much. Heck, I _am_ trying to joke here.

All Helpful Hints and Steps to a Charsub in this guide contain mostly my own opinions, and should not be treated as anything more. I may often be wrong.

All Story Notes refer to features found _in_ the story, not the story itself.

All reviews and or critiques should contain at least one piece of constructive criticism or one suggestion on how to refine this story. I am humble enough to know I have much room for improvement, and would appreciate your feedback along with your praise and insults. Thank you.

Step One: Title

First part of any story, a title must be gripping to the reader, yet still simple and compact enough to be remembered. In any charsub, a proper title must contain elements of both stories from which it is derived. As in the actual charsub, the plot story will form a base, and the character one, a supplement.

For example, a charsub of Star Wars and the Legend of Zelda (not recommended) could be titled Legend of the Stars only if it used a Zelda plot and Star Wars characters, or Hyrule Wars only with a Star Wars plot and Zelda characters. It is simply a matter of finding the proper combination.

Helpful Hints:

Say it aloud. What can be changed?

Avoid trying to poke humor through parodies of titles, like To Summon or Not to Summon? It used to be funny, but has since been done to death.

The Magnificent Eight

Part One

It was just after harvest time in the elf village of Heimdal, and therefore less busy than usual. The rice crop was finally gathered, and most of it was threshed and drying. The great racks of wet rice plants hanging outside the circle of houses represented the fruit of an entire year's work, and most of the village's food for the coming winter.

Because the crops were finally in, there were few chores to do, and most of the elves of Heimdal were making the most of it. They relaxed in their huts, keeping cool and dry. Stupid buggers.

Maria, founder, chief treasurer, and undisputed absolute ruler of the White Rangers Club, stood in the tree house she and the other club members had made during the rest season. The tree in which it stood leaned far out over the water. Most of the other girls were out swimming, but not Maria. She was on watch. The other, rival club, the Red Knights Society, could attack at any time. Theoretically.

Personally, Maria was certain that they were off playing in the mud and having a good time. Köln, vice-mayor Neil's half-and-half son, would sure let 'em.

Maria was not happy in the least that she had decided to create this tree house. All the other children in the club were down there playing with the langa fish and swimming to cope with the heat, but she, the proud leader of this club, daughter of Mayor Dorr, had to take her turn keeping watch.

Maria _could_ have made Tina the tinker's daughter do it, of course, but that would have been dishonest and unleaderlike, 'cause the Elder had told her, "A true leader is not the one who always takes the best for herself." And, after all, the Elder was always right, right? Of course right!

That didn't make the heat any cooler. Why, oh why had she ever even thought of watching over the…

Wait! What was that? Maria jerked forward and looked out the window and across the lake.

Dust clouds! Kvar!

Maria whirled around, and jumped down to the ground. She had to tell Father! She ran like the wind, yelling at the top of her lungs. "Desians! Desians! Run everyone! Run!"

The other children in the lake heard her shouting immediately. They stopped their play, and swam to shore, before running after her. "Desians! Kvar! Help!"

As the unruly procession neared the village, the windclock worker, who had been fixing the delicate clockwork in the wind-powered mechanism, heard their cries. He leaned out the window and watched some of the grown ups try to quiet the children. The tinker looked up and squinted…and saw the dust cloud. "Martel preserve us!" he cried.

The windclock worker turned and scrambled over to the big bell rope hanging in the back of the windmill. He rang it loud and fast, in quick, up-and-down jerks.

Ding-Dang-Dung! Ding-Dang-Dung! Danger comes!

The elves all stared down the road in a panic. "Desians!" yelled Yuan, who took the rice to market for the others in exchange for a small fee. "DESIANS!"

"Kvar!" screamed his wife, Martel. "He's come back!"

The village exploded into a frenzy of action. Most of the adults shepherded the children into their homes, while a few others quietly stood outside waiting. Waiting like one who has taken a hard blow and expects another. They didn't have to wait long for the blow to come.

With a chorus of harsh whines and loud snorting, the Desians rode into town. Some shot in atop one-man Rheiard flying machines, others on snorting porcupin beasts. One huge red-haired fellow even dashed in atop a massive semi-tame wolf.

Every single one of them had at least one clearly visible Exsphere crystal set somewhere in their bodies, glowing with angry red light. A few of them had as many as five, protruding from their arms like boils.

Leading these bandits was a half-elf, mounted atop a small dragon. He flipped off the beast and onto the ground expertly, and surveyed the village with dispassionate eyes. His hand touched the magestaff stuck through a loop on his belt.

He was very thin, and his hair was short and white. He wore a blue hat and coat of the finest material, with a wide brim to keep the rain off.

"Ah, Yuan!" the Desian cried pleasantly as he caught sight of him standing outside. "How are you?"

Two of his Desians dismounted, and the three strode over to Yuan's house. The rest simply made themselves comfortable where they were, and waited.

The two Desians who followed him were clearly his lieutenants. One was big and beefy, with a huge ax wrought of fire magic slung over his back. He was the one who had tamed a wolf, and he had left his other weapon, an enormous sword made of flare materite, on the beast's back.

Not that he needed either weapon. The guy looked like he could kill a yeti with his bare hands and eat it. Raw.

His armor was red as his hair, and so thick that, but for a few choice magic runes, it would have steamed him alive like so many ramen noodles in this hot swamp of a town.

The other lieutenant wore a thick green cloak over his entire person but his head and hands. The head had a thick crop of long and unruly greenish-colored hair, and he wore a black patch over his right eye. One of his hands appeared to be just a smooth, round metal stub, jutting out of the cloak sleeve. His good eye examined the village with undisguised contempt.

Yuan watched, saying nothing as the leader walked up to him.

"Why, Yuan! Don't you remember your dear friend Kvar? Magnius or Forcystis too, perhaps?"

Yuan nodded slightly and opened the door for the Desians. His house was large and luxurious by village standards, which meant the living room was one of only three rather small chambers. It had a table and cushions, along with a few dressers. The Desians walked in and sat down at his table. Martel walked into the main room, and offered them a tray of tea and coffee, both very expensive items in this half of the world.

Kvar took the tea. "Thank you dearest.…" He started. "Lady in Kharlan! Martel! So Yuan finally found the spine to propose after all!"

Martel blushed and said nothing, but offered the tray to his followers.

"No thank you," sniffed Forcystis with disdain.

"Got any beer?" grunted Magnius. "Or sake maybe?"

Martel rushed off, glad to leave even for a moment, and returned with a clay bottle of their finest rice wine. Magnius promptly knocked the top of the bottle off on the table, threw back his head, and messily guzzled wine from the broken neck like water, slopping it everywhere. Some landed on Forcystis's cloak, and he whipped it away disgustedly.

Yuan stood next to the door, trying not to provoke the Desian leader who was usurping his home. Kvar was prone to irrationally violent acts. Who should know that better than him? Oh, his sisters….

Kvar sipped his tea. "So, how are things this year? Plenty of rice, I hope?"

Yuan willed himself to remain calm. "Not really. We have had a very bad year."

Kvar set down his tea cup with a loud **_clink!_** "Us too! People are so ungenerous to us poor wanderers nowadays. Our whole society is decaying at the seams!"

Kvar got up, and paced restlessly around the room.

"The people just aren't putting enough stock in the church, that's it! Why, just the other month, we hit a church near Asgard, and do you know what we found? Pewter candle sticks, brass plates, even a quartz icon of the Sacred Tree! Quartz! The miserliness! The irreverence!"

"We took them anyway," added Magnius, looking up from his bottle. "Those plates and stuff."

Kvar angrily rounded on him. "Idiot! I know we took them anyway, and I think it likely Master Yuan there does too. I was trying to make a point about how humans are neglecting their religion, you oaf!"

The red-haired giant shrugged and guzzled more wine.

"Imbecile." Kvar turned to stare out the window at the rice racks. His face was greedy. "Has the drying finished yet?"

Yuan's heart fluttered in his chest. "No."

"Very well." Kvar picked up his teacup and finished it off before leaving and motioning to his companions to come along. Forcystis quietly rose to his feet with one last haughty, assessing look at the simple room around him. Magnius gulped down the last of the wine and tossed the bottle out the window. He heaved himself up out of the seat. The three began walking outside.

"Rally the men." Kvar ordered Forcystis. Forcystis strode over to his Rheiard, and called, "Mount up!"

Every Desian jumped up upon their varied mounts as one.

After the men had done so, Kvar himself climbed on his dragon, turning in the saddle to address the elves.

He said in a loud voice, "Well, it seems I've come at a bad time. From the looks of things, your fine crop of rice won't be done drying for another few months. But don't worry, good elves of Heimdal. Have patience. We'll be along to take it off your hands. Eventually." Kvar grinned wolfishly.

Suddenly, someone screamed, "No, wait! Don't!"

One farmer, named Telt, driven over the edge by this last subtle cruelty, was rushing at Kvar with a long, bladed pole used for cutting rice stalks. He sobbed, "I'll kill you, you half-and-half son-of-a—"

Kvar whirled in the saddle, drawing the magestaff one-handed from his belt in the same smooth motion. Telt was blasted with three purple lightning bolts in quick succession before he even got within twenty feet of Kvar. He collapsed backward like a tin can hit by a bullet.

He was dead before his body even touched the ground.

The Desian leader twirled his stave like a baton, and stuck it through his belt loop.

"We're off men!" Kvar cried with a vicious smile, and his dragon took off, followed by two dozen Rheiards. Twenty-five porcupins and one wolf followed suit.

Tert's fiancé, Lina, ran over to his crumpled body and cradled his head in her arms. She cried aloud as his sister, Vanessa, tried to comfort her.

The head people of the village gathered slowly together in the middle of the street. "What'll we do?" asked Dorr, the mayor. "You all heard him. When he comes back, he'll take our crops again."

"We could just let him," pointed out Cort the tinsmith. "Kvar never quite takes _all _of our crop. He always leaves a little…" Cort trailed off.

"This year, all we've got's a little!" yelled Chocolat, vice-mayor Neil's fiery hume wife. As a young elf, Neil had gone off traveling all over the world, and had returned married to her, hence their "half-and-half" son, Köln. "If he comes back, we'll all starve in the winter."

"Maybe we could hide the crop in the swamp," suggested Neil.

"What!" cried Cort. "Don't you remember what happened?"

"No," sighed Dorr, looking down at his feet. "He wouldn't know, Cort. He was still off traveling."

Dorr looked up at Neil. "We tried that once when you were gone. He burned the church down, and the Desians found where we hid it in that big hollow tree anyway. He took _all_ of it that year, every grain. We came _this_ close to starving to _death_ that winter."

"I say we fight!" said Chocolat defiantly.

"Fight?" Yuan laughed hollowly. "Fight? With farming tools? Against Exspheres? Be reasonable, Choc."

Chocolat rounded on him. "You keep your mouth shut, you traitor! Kvar's little friend he calls you, eh!"

Yuan looked like he had just swallowed a still-undead fireskull. "That man, that _monster_, had both my sisters raped and killed in front of me!" snarled Yuan. Hate flared out of his eyes. "Don't you _dare_ call him my _friend_, you little hume bit--!"

"STOP!" Everyone turned and looked at Köln and Maria, who had snuck up to listen. "Stop fighting and yelling! Why don't you just ask the Elder lady what to do?"

Dorr's gaze jerked up from the ground and he almost smiled at his daughter. "That's the best suggestion I've heard yet. Go back to your mother, Maria, and take Köln with you. Don't you worry. We will. "

The Elder lady, Marble, lived by the river in the water-mill she had made herself to grind to flour the rice the elves didn't sell. It was a short walk from the village itself. She was Chocolat's grandmother, and when Neil had come back to Heimdal with her, he'd brought the Elder along to care for.

The Elder liked to keep to herself and her books, and live off the food she grew in her garden, but she loved to tell stories to the children, stories of brave Mithos and his friends.

The children loved her, and the adults respected her wisdom. The Elder always knew what to do.

Or, if not always, then usually.

**_Usually_**.

The Elder folded her hands on the table. She had heard their case, and thought the answer was painfully obvious.

She looked around the bookshelf-lined room from her chair. Dorr was listening intently, expecting a solution. Chocolat and Neil stood next to each other, holding hands and waiting. Chocolat looked angry, Neil stern. Yuan leaned on the wall beside the table, with both hands folded and a neutral expression. His eyes appeared glazed and far-off. Cort stood as far back from the table as he could, looking sick and trying not to attract any attention from anyone.

Marble nodded suddenly. "You want my advice? Fight."

Chocolat nodded with fierce pleasure, but Yuan said hesitantly, "Elder, they have Exspheres…"

Marble shrugged. "Buy Exspheres!"

Neil sighed. "Exspheres are rare and expensive things, Elder. We have no money, and nothing to sell but the rice."

"Oh, fie on money." She got up and rifled through a drawer in one of her bookshelves, pulling out a bag. "Here."

Marble handed it to Dorr, who opened it and gasped. He reached inside, and delicately removed a foot-tall, perfectly carved crystal Sephira icon, which shone with a brilliant inner light that illuminated the whole cabin with a bluish glow.

"Marble, no!" cried Dorr. He tried to hand it back, but she pushed it away.

"Don't bother. _I_ have no use for it. Martel knows, it's just taking up space on my shelf." She sat down at her table again, and stared at the shocked head villagers.

"Sell it in Hima. You'll find Exspheres for much cheaper across the Sylverant border. The minimum market price for such an item as that icon in those parts is around three hundred thousand gald, if I recall right, so don't sell it for less and you shouldn't get cheated _too_ badly. Use the money to buy Exspheres, and get key crests too, if you can find or afford them. God knows they were never too common to begin with.

"Yuan knows the way from his rice-selling trips, so he and…yes, perhaps three others should go.

"…Not you, I think, Dorr. We need you here to deal with think day by day. Perhaps my granddaughter, and her husband, they look enthusiastic. Köln can stay with you, Dorr. You too Cort! Don't think I don't see you skulking back there! Your cool reason will be important. Don't worry about your daughter, I'll see to her myself. Start as soon as you can, we'll need all the time we can to get ready to fight. _Vaya con la Martela._"

The uncertain look left Yuan's eyes. He tipped his hat at her, and replied, "May she help us all."


End file.
